Splintermark from Calm Coup by Lullscar

A whispered challenge emerges from the dead of night, specifically 3:07 A.M., chronicling one person's fraught attempt to wrestle dominion from a crowding mind. From the outset, a tangible vulnerability permeates the quiet, born from timber-guitar taps routed through an infant's hospital bracelet, lending an unsettling brittleness even to the silence. The composition itself breathes unevenly, with Reyna’s hi-hats charting a nervous, scratchy rhythm that mirrors this internal bargaining for calm. A warped voicemail click punctuates the flow every fourth snare, a deliberate structural hiccup that underscores the precarious balance being sought. What begins as a tense, almost desperate negotiation gradually shifts; the track unfolds, moving through moments of wary curiosity towards a fragile, tender resolve. It marks the album’s first deep plunge into self-governance, transforming raw internal chaos into a quiet, almost hummed promise that control isn’t entirely out of reach.

Our songs are raw voicemails for your future self. Fragile guitars meet quiet thumps, sharing truths.